Dubious Saviour
by SpangleBangle
Summary: Alone in Brennenburg, Alexander is without friends, as Daniel may as well be without family. Alexander's plans to travel home are faltering - he would leave Daniel alone, and he cannot have that. Daniel must be saved. There has to be a way. There must.
1. Chapter 1

Hello there! I am alive! And I finally managed to get past my horrific block to at long last start writing this, my first ATDD fic.

Dedicated to the fabulous Lucien Jay, who I know is also trying to work through a block for an ATDD fic. Good luck buddy, and thanks for all your support!

Amnesia: The Dark Descent (c) Frictional Games.

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><p>Daniel tossed in his bed, shaking the four-poster drapes as he fretted. His feet kicked and thrashed at the covers that twisted around them, only making the tangling worse.<p>

From his seat by Daniel's bed, Alexander smiled slightly to himself and reached out to smooth Daniel's sweat-damp fringe out of his flushed and anxious face. Daniel quieted for a moment and seemed to relax, until the Shadow took hold of him and thrust him back into the world of nightmare. Alexander swallowed the impulse to wake the troubled young man; they had learned from experience that to wake him prematurely would be as good as inviting the Shadow's wrath down upon their heads.

Instead he watched over Daniel as he tried to sleep, ready to intervene if things got too serious. He wouldn't have slept a great deal regardless of his duty as guard over Daniel; a being such as he had no need for rest.

Daniel thrashed again and woke, opening his eyes cautiously as if he expected ephemeral figures to leap at him. Alexander coughed slightly to announce his presence, in case Daniel had forgotten he had asked Alexander to watch him. Daniel sat up properly at the noise and tugged his nightshirt down from where it had twisted up around his hips.

"Nightmares again," Alexander said blandly.

Daniel nodded grimly and took a glass of water from the bedside table, his hand shaking slightly. "They seem to only be getting worse, Baron."

"The Shadow is getting closer," Alexander acknowledged with a brief bow of his head, watching his guest and friend drink to steady his nerves. "The nightmares will become worse for you."

"I know that, Alexander," Daniel said testily. "I've been feeling it for the past few weeks, haven't I?"

There was a pregnant pause as Daniel realised he had stepped outside the bounds of courtesy with Alexander; though the man was his friend, he was also a dangerous man and he seemed either shocked or hurt, Daniel couldn't decide which.

"You are tired," Alexander said tightly, moving to the door. "I shall leave you to your rest."

"Baron, wait, please," Daniel called, fighting the covers to go to the Baron's side. Hesitantly he put a hand on Alexander's arm, the other holding his nightshirt hem self-consciously. "I'm sorry, Baron. I was very rude, and I'm sorry. I know you are trying to help me, and I thank you for it."

"It is forgiven," Alexander said magnanimously, ever the gracious host, smiling briefly at Daniel and patting his hand. "You are over-tired."

"Thank you," Daniel said in relief. "These nightmares… they seem to make me behave in ways I normally would not. Seek out explanations and solutions I normally would never dream of. I did not mean to snap."

"I quite understand, Daniel. Although it is not I who is plagued by this Shadow, I know of the effect it has had on you – and of those of your acquaintance. I knew what I was undertaking when I invited you here."

"I don't believe I can ever thank or repay you enough for giving me shelter like this, and for helping me unravel the mysteries of the orbs." Daniel said in a small voice, looking at his feet.

"Good," Alexander said, smiling a little. "For there is nothing to repay. Your company is all I require."

"Why should that be, Baron?" Daniel asked innocently.

Alexander pushed his hands into the pockets of his bathrobe. "I have been alone a long time, Daniel. Yes, I am a Baron, but one's rank tends to be alienating. The lower classes would not dare attract my attention on the level of an equal, and those higher than my station scorn my relatively low position of authority. As such, I have spent much of my long, long life alone." He paused meditatively, eyes flicking up to the cobwebby ceiling as he presumably thought back along the years of his life.

"A guest in my home… that is most welcome. And such a knowledgeable, interesting guest as well." Alexander's attention abruptly focussed back on Daniel and he gave one of his rare, full smiles. Daniel smiled back instinctively, a sense of peace soothing his distressed mind as he saw the simple contentment on Alexander's normally troubled and distracted face.

"Alexander…" Daniel asked hesitantly, unsure whether he should be calling the Baron by his first name. They were close, certainly, but sometimes, when Daniel had made a mistake, the Baron preferred to distance himself so as not to let out his anger on Daniel.

Alexander lifted his eyebrows, inviting further query, so Daniel carried on. "Alexander, could you stay with me a while? Just until I can get over that nightmare and sleep again, I don't want to stop you from doing what you want—" he hurried to add, until Alexander silenced him with an elegant wave of his hand.

"I too would prefer some company this night," He said, sitting back in the chair. "On stormy nights such as these, it is better to spend the time with another, rather than jumping at shadows, or at the banging of a door blown by the wind."

Daniel thought his look as he said this was a little too kind and understanding for him to feel comfortable, but he was glad Alexander wanted to stay. He hadn't had the courage to admit to Alexander yet that he was frightened of the dark, and that not all of his nightmares were the effect of the Shadow. Brennenburg was a large castle, after all, and much disused in places. They scared him.

Sometimes, however, he had the feeling Alexander knew a lot more than he was letting on, especially about Daniel's movements around his castle in the time they spent apart.

Daniel settled back under his covers, sitting up to look at Alexander. The Baron looked at him curiously for a few moments before speaking.

"We have never spoken of family, have we?"

"Not that I recall, no," Daniel replied, a slight tightening in his chest as he shied away from his memories.

"Is it a sensitive subject?" Alexander asked gently, watching Daniel closely. Daniel looked down at his hands to find them clenching the bedsheets in a white-knuckled grip. He forced himself to relax and nodded.

"Would you rather we not discuss it?"

Daniel looked up at Alexander, meeting his strange yellow gaze squarely. He found an odd comfort in that look, knowing he could trust the Baron.

"No, it's alright. Some of it is… painful, but I can handle it. Things with my family are… complicated."

Alexander smiled briefly. "Family matters are seldom otherwise, I've found."

Daniel's mouth quirked up for a moment as he looked at his hands. "My father never approved of my decision to become an archaeologist. He thought it was a waste. Our family isn't very wealthy, you see, and I was the first in the family to attend university. My father, he thought I was wasting all that money and time by going into such a field. He thought I would be better off following in his footsteps, into industry." Daniel sighed, hunching over slightly. "He could be a harsh man, quick to judge. He could be cruel when he chose."

Alexander's eyes flicked briefly to Daniel's hands, which were shaking. Almost unconsciously Daniel touched his ribs, as if to an old wound.

"I see," Alexander said quietly. "But you chose your path regardless of his censure."

Daniel clenched his jaw and nodded. "I did. He may have been my father, but he is not the controller of my life. I wanted to prove I can be my own man, with my own interests. I don't think he ever understood that, and I never had the chance to smooth things over with him." Daniel bit his lip, still staring down at his hands twisting in the bedsheets. "I went to him, to talk, before I left for Algeria. He refused to open the door. He said I was no son of his."

For quite some time the only sound was the wind in the eaves and the frenetic whipping of the trees in the forest outside as the storm raged on. Alexander surveyed Daniel in silence.

"I think I understand now," he said eventually in a soft voice.

"Pardon?"

"I did wonder, when I read your letter, why you had chosen to take the Orb, and why you were so keen to investigate them. I see now you were trying to prove yourself to your father, to prove that the so-called 'waste' of your profession _could_ deliver results. For reconciliation."

"I hadn't thought of it like that—" Daniel stammered.

"No, of course not," Alexander interrupted him gently, smiling a little. "I quite understand. Sometimes, what drives us can surprise us, only make itself apparent after a great amount of time. Sometimes you need a fresh eye on things, as it were. Don't fret about it, Daniel. I'm sure you'll have a chance to reconcile with your father."

A melancholy note had entered his voice at the last, and Daniel looked up curiously. "Alexander? Did you… I mean to say, were you not on good terms with your father either?"

Alexander's expression turned bitter for a moment. "I'm afraid not. Rather like your father, he did not understand my choices, could not bring himself to try. I forsook him, and my family, long ago. When I came here, I vowed to start afresh. Without them." He stopped abruptly, looking very old for a moment. Of course, he never looked _young_ but now he looked weary, as if he had been carrying a burden for far too long.

Daniel wasn't really sure what to say to that, but his mouth ran away with him. "Did you say when you _came_ here? Did you not inherit your title from your father?"

Alexander slowly looked up to meet Daniel's eyes, a heavy knowledge in his stare. "There are some secrets, Daniel, that can never be told."

Daniel swallowed nervously and broke the look. "I'm sorry you didn't get the chance to talk things over with him," he stuttered, trying to steer the conversation into safer waters.

"It's not your fault," Alexander said, visibly throwing off his gloom. "I'll see them again soon."

"Alexander, you mustn't talk like that!" Daniel exclaimed, shocked. He leaned forward and put his hand on the Baron's wrist, squeezing a little. "To be sure, you aren't a young man, per se, but I'm sure you have many years yet before – before it is your time."

To Daniel's surprise, Alexander started to laugh. It started as merely a chuckle that grew and echoed around the room; Alexander's shoulders shook and he patted Daniel's hand.

"Was it something I said?" Daniel asked with a slight hint of petulance.

"Oh my, Daniel," Alexander laughed. Calming down a bit, he smiled at the young man. "You are a good, kind man, and I thank you for your concern. You are quite right of course, quite right indeed."

"Well then," Daniel said firmly, sitting back. "I'm glad you're a bit happier. I don't like seeing you upset, Alexander – there's no cause for it."

Alexander inclined his head. "Quite right," he said again. More seriously, he continued, "I _am_ sorry about your father, Daniel. Once we have defeated the Shadow you'll be free to go home, and I'm sure he will accept you one way or the other."

"I doubt it," Daniel said soberly. "I think it's likely the Shadow will have taken him by now. It took all my friends and colleagues, why not my family too?"

"Did you see him when you returned to London from Algeria?"

"Well, no, after what he had said I didn't wish to travel to Canterbury—"

"Then I think it is likely the Shadow will not touch him." Alexander said, putting his hands in his pockets matter-of-factly. "It seems to have only struck down those who helped you enquire into the Orb after you took it from the ruins. It seems only concerned with its charge, not you in particular."

Daniel digested that for a few moments. "Still," he said grimly, "My father is not the forgiving type. He sent Hazel away, after all."

"Hazel?" Alexander enquired politely.

"My little sister," Daniel explained, smiling briefly. "A very special girl. But my father couldn't stand her… her difference. He thought she brought shame on him. So he sent her away to the asylum."

"That seems a shame," Alexander said neutrally. Daniel sighed in response. "So you think it unlikely he will accept what you know about the Orbs, accept you?"

Daniel didn't reply, but his hands clenched in the bedsheets.

"You know him and I do not," Alexander said, turning his palms to the ceiling in a gesture of futility. "I am not the best judge of him. It may be as you say. If it is, I am sorry. Truly. If things should not fall out satisfactorily with him, know that you are welcome in my home, Daniel."

"Thank you, Baron," Daniel smiled. "I may have to take you up on that. I wouldn't want you to be alone here, after all." He stifled a yawn as his tiredness caught up with him.

Alexander patted his hand and got up to leave. "I shall let you rest," he said generously. "I shall be in my study if you require me. Good night, Daniel."

"Good night, Alexander. And thank you, again."

Alexander waved his hand – it was no trouble, think nothing of it – and softly closed the door behind himself.

He walked through the dark halls and corridors, one thought in his mind like a mantra. _We have only each other in this world._

He paced down through the levels of Brennenburg, not really noticing where he was going until he found himself standing before Agrippa's paralysed husk of a body.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Herr Baron?" Agrippa asked. "Are you well, my friend?"

"I am quite well, thank you," Alexander replied, a humorous twist to his words. "It is thanks to your knowledge that we have both lived this long, after all."

"Very true," Agrippa replied smugly. "But what brings you down here, Baron? You haven't visited me in quite some time."

Taking the hint, Alexander absently made up some more of Agrippa's potion, to keep him alive even in a husk. Feeding it to his old friend carefully, he sighed. "I was talking with Daniel about family."

"I see," Agrippa said. "Missing those on the other side, Baron?"

"Some," Alexander hedged, frowning slightly. "Lately I have not been remembering them as clearly as I used to. I am forgetting them, Agrippa. After all this time of preserving the memories in the canisters, in vain."

"Maybe it is time to let them go, Baron. Maybe it is time you forget this quest to return home."

"How can you say that, Agrippa? You know that to return is all I want from this world. I must return home." But even as he said the words there was a lack of conviction to them, a hollowness in his tone that spoke of a ritual phrase, something said so often it becomes automatic.

"If you are forgetting them, becoming preoccupied with other matters, like Daniel, it would seem your purpose has wavered, Baron." Agrippa gently replied.

"You and Daniel are all I have in this world that I care about," Alexander said harshly, folding his arms and looking away from Agrippa, even though the corpse-like man couldn't see him with his earthly eyes. "This castle, it's fineries and fripperies, that can all go to dust for all I care. The Shadow can take it, and to Hell with it. I have only one purpose left to me, Agrippa: to use the power of Daniel's Orb to return home. If I can free him from the Shadow along the way, I will try my utmost. He deserves better."

"Feeling sorry for the boy?" Agrippa said, chuckling. "He should have known better than to steal the Orb from its resting place. Or failing that, he should have had the courage to face his fate in Algeria and not gotten all his friends killed."

"It's done now," Alexander said coldly, a vein in his forehead jumping for a moment. "He wasn't to know what powers he was dealing with. That's why he came to me, after all."

Agrippa was stunned into silence. But only for a little while – he was starved of company, and was sick of being alone with no one to talk to.

"It seems you really _do_ care for him, Baron."

Alexander lifted his chin, eyes glittering with a cool fire. "Yes. His family have forsaken him, from what he tells me, and there is little chance he will be redeemed in their eyes. How is he to make a living with the knowledge that the last Professor to take him under wing was killed, and Daniel the only survivor? He will be isolated from his peers for the sake of suspicion. I am alone on this mortal plane. We have only each other in this world."

"Why did you come to me, Alexander?" Agrippa asked wearily.

"Your circumstances are unique, Agrippa. The potion we use on you, it cannot work on another person. It cannot work on Daniel, more to the point. I know you know of something that could help him."

"You want to extend his life? Alexander, you cannot take him with you. He would not survive the journey!"

"You don't know that for certain. You never had the courage to follow your apprentice."

"And I am paying for that now!" Agrippa said angrily. "He does not belong with you, Alexander. He is mortal, with a mortal family here in this plane. You have no right to what you ask. You cannot take him with you!"

Alexander narrowed his eyes. "I have found your apprentice's notes, Agrippa. Young Weyer was working on something to free you, you know. I have its formula in my possession."

"Are you trying to blackmail me, Baron Brennenburg?" Agrippa spat.

"Tell me how to save Daniel, and I will free you and take you with us through the portal. Do we have a deal?"

"This is wrong, Alexander. I beg of you, do not do this!"

Alexander set his jaw. "Or I could leave you here to rot for eternity. What is it to be?"

"A curse on your head and home!" Agrippa said, self-loathing evident in his voice. "And may the Devil take my bones, I will help you bring Daniel with you."

"Tell me what I must do."

Much later, as Alexander left the room, he knew he had forever destroyed his friendship with Agrippa. It saddened him and it grieved him to force his ancient friend to his will in such a way, but Daniel needed him. That was all that was important.

He silently entered the guest room, sitting beside Daniel as he fought to sleep peacefully. A gentle smile pealed over Alexander's features and he rested his hand on Daniel's forehead, seeing how it calmed the young man.

"Don't fret, Daniel," he whispered, stroking his face with careful fingers. "Soon you shall be saved."

Daniel slept on, oblivious of Alexander's plans.


	2. Chapter 2

More~

Yep, I got it done a lot faster than I thought I would ^^ Chapter Three will probably be up around the same sort of speed or within a couple of days, I don't know if I have to be social tomorrow or not.

Throughout writing this, I had the song "Bed of Roses" by Bon Jovi in my head. If you don't know it, I strongly urge you to YouTube it. I swear it's an AlxDan song, I really do CX

Slight slashiness in this chapter, just to warn you. You could see it as friendly as well, so I'm not going to up the rating 'cause really it's not that heavy. You'll see when you get to it :3 Enjoy~!

Amnesia:The Dark Descent (c) Frictional Games

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><p>Daniel was walking around the dimly lit corridors of Brennenburg, rushing from one pool of light to the next, heart pounding. He was searching for Alexander; he hadn't been in his study like he had said he would.<p>

But then that was alright, Daniel mused. The Baron couldn't be expected to wait on Daniel. However fair it may be that the Baron have free movement in his own castle, it made him difficult to track down. The dark terrified Daniel and he could swear sometimes, that in the unholy dark of some of the corridors and hallways, the walls would twist and bend like ripples on water, and he could hear the cries of anguished women and children, and the bellows of men close to death.

He knew it was all in his head. That didn't, however, make it easier to deal with.

He was looking for Alexander because he knew they must complete the ritual soon, to stave off the Shadow for a little longer while they tried to find a way to escape it forever. He also wanted to ask what had happened to his Orb – upon his stumbling and exhausted arrival at Brennenburg, Alexander had taken it from him to put in a safe place. Every now and then, Daniel would have strange urges to see it and hold it again. He knew Alexander was working on the Orb in his spare time, trying to untangle its secrets – and he trusted the Baron implicitly – but he wanted to _see_ it again. Even though he knew it might invite the wrath of the Shadow, the Orb's guardian, before they were ready with the ritual sacrifice.

He sighed and navigated carefully up the stairs, wondering where Alexander could have gone. He has just checked the storage room and the kitchen and everything on that level. He hadn't dared go further down without Alexander to guide him – it was treacherous down there, and the coward's voice in his head said that Alexander would not have gone to the Inner Sanctum without him, and that _if_ he was down there he would have to come back up eventually.

That settled, Daniel made his way to the much more pleasant rooms above ground, where at least there was natural light. Even if it was grey and gloomy.

He sighed, looking out at the blustery, dark sky. _Why does the sun never shine on us here? _He wondered sadly. It was like he and Alexander were doomed to be surrounded by shadows – supernatural or not.

He bit his lips anxiously as that thought called back a recollection of his nightmare last night, after Alexander had left.

_He had been in complete and utter darkness, a void of light so complete he hadn't known which way was up or whether his eyes were open or not. He could feel the blackness pressing against his eyes, his hands, his back, his mouth and nose. It had borne him down to whatever floor there was and kept on pushing until he could barely take a breath; and in any case with every breath he took in, he felt like the shadows were entering him too, swirling in his lungs and filtering through his blood into his whole body, until he felt like a fleshy husk for the shadows' amusement, at their bidding. _

_He had managed to curl up into the foetal position, hoping it might help keep the darkness at bay, but he had felt like he was slipping away, suffocating and falling into an even more profound darkness. _

_Then, a light._

_A halo of golden light, bobbing towards him and limning the figure that bore it in a shimmering glow. The figure was a being of eternal darkness – he wondered how he could know this, surrounded by primal darkness as he was – that sucked in light greedily, like a sinkhole. He knew he should be afraid of this figure that walked calmly towards him, but the sight of the figure eased the burden on his chest and he found he could breathe easier. It came closer until it was immediately before him. It crouched before him and set the light – a candelabra of fine beeswax candles – to the side. As soon as the light had been set aside, the figure's features came into slow focus, as if Daniel were blinking away sleep. _

_He felt foolish for not realising sooner that it was Alexander. _

_The Baron reached out and placed his hand gently on Daniel's forehead, as if in a blessing. He smiled, and the shadows seemed to recede from around them, fearful of the light the Baron had carried. _

"_Don't fret, Daniel," Alexander said, his words full of affection as he brushed Daniel's hair from his eyes. "Soon you shall be saved." _

_Daniel released his breath in a sigh, and he felt the shadows float away on his breath, leaving his body and burning with blue flickers on the candles. _

"_That's it," Alexander encouraged him in the gentlest voice Daniel had ever heard him use, as if he had encased each syllable with warmth and protection. "You know what to do. You can do this, Daniel." _

_He offered his hands, upturned to the sky, and without hesitation Daniel had taken them and stood, Alexander rising with him. The shadows that surrounded them slowly faded back until they stood in the entrance hall of Brennenburg, with a soft light far greater than that of the candles surrounding them. _

"_Wonderful, Daniel. See, you _can_ do these things." Alexander praised him with a smile. He slowly brought Daniel's hands up in his own and pressed his lips to the knuckles. Daniel felt himself blush at the burning look in the Baron's eyes, and the distractingly soft feel of his lips on Daniel's skin. _

"_B-Baron?" he asked hesitantly. _

_Alexander smiled and lowered Daniel's hands again. "Don't worry, Daniel. Just stay close."_

"_Where are we going?"_

_Alexander stepped closer and put his hands on Daniel's upper arms. Daniel swallowed nervously, looking up at the older man. _

"_Just stay close," Alexander whispered, closing his eyes and kissing Daniel's forehead gently. A benediction, and an tenderness that made Daniel feel at once emboldened and cradled._

It was then he had awoken, flustered and tangled in his bedsheets as the dawn light grumpily filtered through the curtains. He had been alone, for which he had been thankful. If Alexander had been sitting there still, after such a dream, Daniel didn't know whether he would have been able to keep his composure.

His dream unsettled him – it had been strangely lucid and rational, not like his usual dreams. And why had he dreamed of Alexander so? The Baron had appeared in his dreams before, but never like _that_.

He looked around himself, dragging his mind out of was light, if gloomy, and Alexander was still somewhere in the castle. Daniel resolved not to brood – it was only a dream, after all – and tried to think again of where the mysterious Baron might have gone.

It was as he was pondering this that a faint wisp of music reached his ears, floating on the air to tickle his ear and weave its way into his mind. He stood up and followed it back, astonished. The only other person in Brennenburg was_ Alexander_. Surely it couldn't be Alexander?

He traipsed along corridors he had never set foot in before, the darkness forgotten in the face of the beautiful music. A piano's sweet melancholy resounded and reverberated, getting louder as Daniel got closer. Up and up, into one of the castle's towers. He stepped carefully, as if the music were a deer he didn't want to startle. At the top of the tower, a door was cracked open and a shadow was cast upon the floor. Daniel crept closer and peered around the door, eyes wide.

Alexander was seated before a piano, half turned away from the door. Half his face was lit by the light from the bay windows that made half the wall of the room, looking out over the forest to the mountains in the distance, capped by snow and crowned with storm clouds. The Baron played with a serious attention, his fingers lightly dancing over the keys and evoking such haunting music Daniel felt his breath catch. The Baron needed no sheets to tell him how to play, and his gaze was distant and pensive as he stared along pathways Daniel could only guess at.

The music filled the room like sunlight, shimmering and winding around the two men. Notes cascaded elegantly, echoes joining the melody and rebounding until Daniel's untrained ear could barely distinguish between the two as they resonated in perfect harmony.

It was a sad tune that Alexander coaxed from the ivory keys, full of a depth of sorrow and regret as deep and unfathomable as the sea itself. It spiralled to the heights of joy while dark undertones spoke of a falsity and bitterness that drew Daniel in and absorbed his attention. Alexander closed his eyes and played blindly, a pain on his countenance that shone through his music. Even with his eyes closed, the melody remained perfect and full, not a note out of place, every strain woven into the ones before and leading beautifully to the next.

The music shimmered, growing quieter and more poignant for it, tailing away in cascades of rippling emotion made sound until only the echoes were left. Alexander's hands shook as he rested them on his knees. He took a breath and released it unevenly, eyes still closed.

It was only then that Daniel thought that perhaps Alexander had gone up to this lonely tower for a reason, and that he may not want company. He didn't think he could creep away though, now that Alexander had stopped playing. So he remained standing quietly in the doorway, hidden behind the door and waiting for the chance to slip away and leave the Baron to his pain, whatever it may be.

Alexander sighed and turned on the stool to regard the view, away from Daniel. He thought it might be the time to leave, but the room was deathly quiet, the final notes having hummed to silence. The only sound was the slight rustle of Alexander's jacket as he breathed. There was no way he could leave without alerting the Baron to his presence.

"Did you enjoy the music, Daniel?" Alexander asked quietly in a tired voice, still looking out of the windows.

Daniel started guiltily and came into the room properly. "I'm sorry, Baron, I didn't mean to intrude…"

"It's alright," Alexander said in that same tired, almost passionless voice. "Come. Sit with me."

Gingerly Daniel sat beside him on the pianist's stool, facing out over the view. He didn't know what to say; he had never seen Alexander like this. Usually he seemed so strong and self-assured, like the saviour in his dream – though he quickly shied away from thinking about his dream.

"I rarely play anymore," Alexander opened with, eyes far away on the distant mountains. "You caught me at a rare moment. I do not think I shall play again."

"Why not, Baron?" Daniel asked in dismay. "That was _beautiful_! The most beautiful music I've ever heard, honest to God."

Alexander gave a slightly smile. "Thank you Daniel, you are very kind. I've had many, many years to learn, and yet more to practice. But it brings back too many painful memories."

Alexander's eyes flicked briefly to a metal cylinder in the corner of the room Daniel had failed to notice.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Daniel said softly. "I think if I live to be a hundred, I shall never hear music to rival yours."

"Would you like to live to such an age, Daniel? Truly? Take it from an old man, age can be a terrible curse." Alexander's mouth twisted in sudden bitterness.

"Of course I would," Daniel replied firmly. "Just look out there, out at the world. There is so much to see and experience, how could I not want as much time as I possibly could to see it all? I see no curse in that."

"I speak of the curse of living to regret your actions, Daniel, and the knowledge that you can never change them. I speak of the curse of knowing you will never again see those you care for, separated by more than mere time and distance."

Daniel looked at Alexander then, really _looked_. To say he looked sad would be the understatement of the year. Daniel didn't pity him – the Baron's very nature forbade pity – but he certainly felt for him.

"Was there… were you married once, Alexander?" Daniel asked tentatively, gently. He thought he knew what had caused the Baron's misery and such heart-breaking music.

"You could say that," Alexander replied in a voice too emotionless to be accepted as anything other than a veil to hide his emotion behind.

"Were you thinking of her when you played?"

"Her… and my family."

From the tightening around Alexander's eyes and the way his expression closed in on itself, Daniel knew it would be unwise to pry further. Some things were simply too painful and too private, he knew that from his own experience.

Daniel looked down at the keys, polished smooth by Alexander's playing and shining from use over the years. For a moment Daniel wondered when Alexander had learned to play the piano, and for how many years he had been playing out his pain. There was so much that was hidden about the Baron, Daniel felt he hardly knew the man.

_Well, _he thought, _I don't really. I've only been here for a few weeks, for all that it feels longer. _The thought made him feel very alone just then.

"I'm sorry." Daniel said simply.

Alexander bowed his head in acknowledgement and thanks, and changed the subject. "Was there a particular reason you were looking for me?"

"I think we may have to complete the ritual again soon. I've been feeling the Shadow creeping closer again."

"Indeed, and we must prepare the prisoners."

Daniel waited for Alexander to spring up and walk at his usual brisk pace down to the gaol-dungeon, but he didn't move so much as a hair. Instead he frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Daniel, if I offered you the chance to escape the troubles of this world for good, would you take it?" There was something tense in Alexander just then, and Daniel felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"What do you mean?" Daniel asked in a hushed voice.

"Would you take a journey with me, to my home? If you agree, you will never be able to return to England. Would you still come?"

Daniel looked out over the forest, watching a few birds of prey wheel in the sky. He couldn't imagine the sort of a journey that would mean he couldn't return. It sounded fearsomely long and difficult. That in itself raised the question of where Alexander was referring to, and Daniel remembered what he had said the previous night. _"When I came here, I vowed to start afresh._" And when Daniel had asked what he meant by that, Alexander had forbiddingly replied, _"There are some secrets, Daniel, that can never be told." _

But then again… what did he have to lose? Only Hazel would miss him, but it was highly unlikely that if he stayed he would get to see her again – his father would not allow anyone to visit her unless he was there, the controlling bastard. And his father had as good as disinherited him.

Could he trust Alexander? He knew so little about this man who had done so much for him. And why did Alexander wish to leave, anyway? Brennenburg was a comfortable castle, and he would have everything he needed here.

Daniel looked back at the piano, recalling Alexander's words of regret and family. Maybe he hoped to make amends with them, reconnect with his old home, wherever it might be.

"Why do you want me to come with you?" Daniel asked, gently rubbing an ivory key with his finger.

"We have only each other, Daniel. I don't want you to be alone in this world, when I am gone." Daniel drew in a shaky breath; Alexander had used that voice, the voice in his dream, of a depth of care and tenderness that shook him to his very core.

"Will you come with me?" Alexander asked again, lightly putting his hand on Daniel's knee.

Daniel nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. "Yes," he breathed. "I'll come."

"Thank you," Alexander said, and Daniel looked up and blinked in surprise. Alexander had been transformed, his gloom lifted and a smile of innocent happiness was spread over his face. Daniel thought fleetingly that it would be worth this journey just to see Alexander happy like this.

"When are we leaving?"

"Almost immediately after we defeat the Shadow, timing is of the essence. There are some preparations we'll need to do beforehand, of course."

"Like what?"

Alexander paused thoughtfully, remembering what Agrippa had told him the night before.

"The first thing we'll need is more vitae. Not just for the ritual, for this other thing."

Daniel looked at him dubiously for a moment, wondering why they would need vitae to travel somewhere. But then he smiled. "I trust you, Alexander. If you say we need more vitae, then we need more vitae."

"Thank you," he said again, and helped Daniel to his feet in an almost eerie repetition of Daniel's dream. For a moment he flushed bright red in remembrance, but refused to explain why.

"Come, let's extract some vitae." Alexander smiled.

As they left the room, Alexander carefully closed the piano down and locked the door with a sense of peace flowing through him.

Deep down in the bowels of Brennenburg, however, Agrippa's conscience was screaming at him that he had to _do_ something. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right of Alexander to do this to Daniel. He was simply being selfish!

Agrippa knew he had a moral obligation to stop this madness before it got too far. He had let his cowardly instincts persuade him to go along with Alexander last night and provide him with the information he needed to concoct a potion that would lengthen Daniel's lifespan and make it easier for him to survive the journey to Alexander's home.

He railed against the confines of his wasted, useless body. If only he could move but a little… he strained, and willed with every ounce of his formidable will…

And his foot twitched.

For a moment he could hardly believe it. After all these years of trying, these long decades of imprisonment, he had finally managed to move. With a sudden cold rush of fear, the thought occurred that it might have been a motor twitch, a coincidence. Fuelled with desperation, he strained again.

It definitely moved. Of his own volition.

He wanted to laugh. It seemed he had the means to do something about this plan of Alexander's after all.


	3. Chapter 3

More~

I know I said I'd have this up within three days and it's now up about eight days after the last chapter, but, uh... sorry. Life intruded. Particular apologies to RedBrickAndIvy, a wonderful reviewer who I really did promise to have this chapter up sharpish. Sorry!

Contains: A ritual scene. Yes, it's time to paint the man. I'm not going to up the rating to M unless people are really shocked by the toture scene - I know it's not a good defence, but I've seen real smutty stuff at rating T, and this is just some bloodiness. I'll let you guys decide this. (And besides, this is Amnesia. It's a kind of bloody fandom.)

Enough from me prattling, on with the chapter. C:

Amnesia:The Dark Descent (c) Frictional Games, the buggers.

* * *

><p>Agrippa was cursing; damn, but this was difficult! Who would have thought that after decades of immobility, perhaps even hundreds of years, simply moving all your limbs at once would be so difficult?<p>

_Most people_, he replied to himself. He had to acknowledge that as a fair point. Then he sighed; he was alone so often, and had been for so long, that it had become normal for him to hold conversations and even debates with himself. He was never far from decent company at least.

But _why_ did this have to be so difficult? Every day, healthy people moved their limbs in wild conjunction without even noticing – he had been healthy and normal once, why was it taking him so long to get the hang of it again?

_It's not like you can forget how to stretch your arms, how to wiggle your toes. We all learn it as babies, for Heaven's sake! Get a grip, Heinrich. _He giggled suddenly. _Get a real grip!_

Focussing himself again, a task that was getting harder and harder with each week he passed down in the depths of Brennenburg, he started slowly rotating his ankles and wrists. The ropes that held him safe from injury were old and fraying; just enough to keep him supported and no more. Alexander was no monster, after all. He wouldn't chain Agrippa up just because he was immobile.

Well, immobile no longer.

From what Alexander had asked, Agrippa knew he would be moving soon, and taking an unwitting Daniel along with him for no reason other than his own selfishness. After the way Alexander had hounded him for answers on how a mortal human might travel through the portals without harm, and how to extend his life, Agrippa highly doubted that Alexander's motives were pure. Agrippa was sure that Alexander felt he was running out of time to harness the Orbs' powers before the Shadow caught up to Daniel and reclaimed its property, and as such his requests – demands really – that Agrippa tell him everything he knew could be nothing more than a way to keep Daniel with him for just long enough for the Baron to find out all the boy knew of the Orbs. Agrippa had no doubt that after Alexander had accomplished the task he had been researching and hunting for all these hundreds of years, he would cast Daniel aside with as little thought as he might toss away a used tinderbox.

So it was up to Agrippa to save Daniel.

_Strange,_ he thought as he strained to break the last few cords of rope holding his left wrist, _that I should feel this way. I know the boy not at all, only from what precious little Alexander has deemed to share with me about his new student. I haven't any sympathy for this plight – the boy should have faced his death like a man when he realised the Shadow was coming after him, not desperately run away like a scared child and seek ever-more drastic measures to escape the inevitable. But for all that, I suppose the boy is an innocent, and I am the only one who can save him from Alexander's machinations. _

Agrippa paused for a moment to let out a bleak, humourless laugh. _And it was I who provided the means to this quick step through the portal. It is most definitely my responsibility to correct that error, made from my own overweening cowardice. _

He sighed. _I may not have been brave enough to follow you last time, my apprentice, _he thought to the shade of long-gone Weyer, _but I shall put things right now, God willing. _

In a different part of the cavernous castle of Brennenburg, Daniel tied the heavy leather apron around his waist, pushing away the uneasiness that always came with donning the protective garment. It was a butcher's apron – the heavy duty sort that the butcher would wear when slaughtering the animals or cutting up the carcasses.

That was another thought that Daniel pushed away, tying the cords securely so the apron covered his shirt and trousers – he had left his waistcoat in the higher levels, favouring practicality over warmth. There was no point in getting all his clothes bloody; as long as they kept moving down in the lower, colder levels by the gaol-dungeon, he wouldn't get chilblains, and they wouldn't be down in these odious levels for very long anyway.

He glanced over at his companion, the Baron. He was tying his apron similarly, though with noticeably more composure. After the first of the procedures – the first of the tortures Daniel had participated in, after the first of the ritual killings – Daniel had been horribly sick, and Alexander had been patient enough to wait with him until he was more recovered and fetch him some water with which to rinse his mouth. When Daniel had felt he could open his mouth without vomit issuing from it, he had asked Alexander, sickened to the core, how he could stand there so calmly.

Alexander had replied that it was necessary, and that just because one did not show outward signs of distress – such as the retching and vomiting exhibited by Daniel – it did not mean one was unaffected by it. In a quiet voice the Baron had said that he was as disgusted by the rituals as Daniel was, but that if they were going to defeat the Shadow they must overcome their visceral reaction and move beyond it to the intellectual reaction, and the learning to be gained from the exercises.

Daniel had grudgingly agreed and had not offered up any meaningful protest the next few times. Alexander's logic was sound, after all, and Daniel knew that Alexander was as anxious to study the Orbs as he himself was, albeit maybe for undisclosed reasons.

Some twinge of his conscience still bothered him on occasion, however. Sometimes he couldn't shake the feeling that Alexander was getting more desperate, and he knew that soon they would have depleted the gaol's supply of criminals, those who would surely deserve the exotic treatments the Baron and himself performed upon them to extract the precious vitae. He hadn't dared ask what would happen then, for he was half-afraid of the possible answer.

Alexander raised his eyebrows enquiringly, politely. _Are you ready? _Daniel nodded an assent and they moved quickly through the labyrinthine corridors, Alexander leading unerringly while Daniel tripped to keep up and stay close, towards the rooms that could only be called, for want of a better word, torture chambers.

The cold air whipped at the ankles and at exposed areas of skin, drafts from between the bricks and the few air vents to circulate the air – it wouldn't do to have the prisoners die untimely deaths, with their vitae dormant and useless in death after all. Daniel shivered and tried to get into the right frame of mind; they were going to perform the ritual shortly to stave off the Shadow, offering a man's life in exchange for Daniel's. If the intent did not match the words, the enchantment would not hold. Alexander had been most stringent on that point when instructing him for the first ritual they had performed.

Nevertheless, knowing that he was going to face the Shadow again, even if briefly to force it away - filled Daniel with a sickly dread, as if every corner hid an enemy and every flickering dance of candles disguised the Shadow's lurking progress behind him. But he forced his breaths into a normal pattern and filled his thoughts with righteousness. These men were criminals, filthy lawbreakers, and they deserved all they got. In Heaven's name, offering them as sacrifices to further the great cause of science could be seen as a better end than awaited them stinking in the gaol cells and surrounded by the other dregs of society. One might even say it was a privilege.

Alexander had been watching Daniel out of the corner of his eye as they had progressed down the levels, and nodded slightly to himself. Daniel was ready to perform the task required – if Alexander were to do it himself there would be no point; the Shadow was after Daniel and it only struck at those who got between it and its prey. As far as they had been able to determine, the Shadow – in what sentience it possessed – did not consider Alexander to be a threat in this way. It was unclear why not, as Alexander was showing Daniel how to oppose the Shadow and deny it the satisfaction it craved.

_Perhaps it is tired of hunting those Daniel comes into contact with, and wishes the task to be over. Maybe it loses its potency with time, and must now complete its task without further ado. _Alexander frowned to himself. _If that theory holds true, we must work even faster and more efficiently to escape it in time, before our efforts are no longer effective. Everything can withstand anything, after all. After so many rituals to keep it at bay, maybe they hold less power over it each time. Maybe that is why Brennenburg appears to be falling down around us even as we learn and buy more time. _

_We cannot afford to delay. I must save him. I must take him with me, back to the homeland, with as much haste as I may. _

He looked again at Daniel as they walked through to the gaol area. Had Daniel returned the look – he was quite used to Alexander's odd, considering glances and assessments by now – he would have seen how the Baron's usual serious expression softened, and his eyes glinted gently in the low light, lit by determination and affection.

_Within the next few days, _Alexander thought resolutely. _And he shall be safe eternally. _

In the sacrificial chamber they paused, hardening their resolve. The long, manacled table was encrusted with gore and dried blood, etched into intricate whorls and staining the wood indelibly. As Alexander had explained to Daniel once, it was not just the patterns on the skin that mattered; it was the patterns of the blood, painting patterns within patterns, making a stronger defence than a simple sketching of blood and marred skin. It was the intricacy that mattered, in confusing the Shadow's senses and protecting them for just a bit longer. Every detail must be attended to.

They turned to each other, expressions and stances a perfect mirror between young and ancient.

"Bring him."

Daniel nodded seriously and left with a measured step, ready to face the darkness of the stone hallways knowing it was with a purpose. He knew the steps from the sacrificial room to the cell they had termed 'the waiting cell'. It was where they moved the prisoner destined to die next. It was surrounded by other occupied cells, and with the piping system the noises of pain and anguish were amplified into that room in particular. That way, the corpse-to-be would hear all the pain of the others and never see it; why go to the trouble, when the human mind could invent scenes more terrible than the physical world could ever provide? Maximum vitae produced, least effort expended.

Efficient, elegant.

Daniel made sure to make noise as he walked, banging on the doors to other cells – mostly empty now they were running out of prisoners, but some provided a few whimpers that would be heard most acutely in the waiting cell. It garnered the desired effect: when he opened the door to that cell, the prisoner was already weeping and huddled in a filthy pile of rags and soiled straw in the corner, as far from Daniel as possible.

"Please," the man whimpered in a broken voice, holding himself. "Please, not me, anything but that…"

"Silence." Daniel commanded, and hauled the weak shell up out of the corner, nose wrinkling with distaste at the rank smell and almost furry feel of his unwashed clothes. "Face your fate with dignity, at least. If not a clean conscience."

The man was too weak to struggle as Daniel dragged him sobbing through the halls, barely able to support his own weight as he blabbered his innocence and claims of denial. Daniel shut them out with ease; it was all the same, one sinner to the next. They all claimed their innocence then, at the ultimate end, tried to bargain with Daniel and Alexander, begging for more time, trying to buy them off and exchange their lives for that of other prisoners.

As they walked the man gibbered with fear every time they passed between the many hanging corpses, a testament to the extremes Alexander and Daniel had brought themselves. To the prisoners they served as yet another way for them to generate vitae.

Daniel lugged the prisoner into the sacrificial room and exchanged a solemn look with Alexander. While Daniel had been fetching the sorry excuse for a human being, Alexander had been readying the room; lighting the candles, cleaning the knife to a fearsome gleam and making a small offering of his blood to the altar at one end of the room. He stood on the other side of the table, facing Daniel across it.

Without a word Alexander tied the canvas hood around the prisoner's head, ignoring his cries as staunchly as Daniel had. They shackled him to table and paused for a moment, feeling the Shadow's omnipresent aura thicken. The time was now. Alexander quickly painted intricate designs onto the man with practised ease.

"Please," the man groaned, twitching and straining against the shackles. "I am innocent, there's no need to kill me—"

"Be quiet, wretch," Alexander spat, backhanding the man around the face through the hood. "An innocent man need not fear death, for he shall be reunited with the Lord in Heaven. Your fear professes your guilt and necessitates your death. Be silent and be of the only use you may, as a sacrifice."

The man whimpered and sobbed, shaking as the Baron's words struck him hard.

Alexander picked up the cruelly shaped knife from its place by the victim's head and offered it to Daniel across his upturned bloody palms, still bleeding from his offerings. Daniel turned the knife by its handle, covering the blade in Alexander's blood. He then touched the devilishly sharp edge to his own palms and his blood joined Alexander's on the blade.

A few droplets of their combined blood fell and spattered onto the victim, making him startle and moan. They knew that the silence was making the victim even more anxious, and that unexpected warm wetness on him was causing a terror they could not have engineered.

_His blood must be brimming with vitae by now,_ Alexander mused, and nodded to Daniel to begin the ritual.

The air in the close little room almost stagnated with the first cut Daniel made into the man, the Shadow drawn by the spilling of blood and the mingling of Daniel's with the sacrifice. Bloody crimson organic matter began to swell in the corners of the room and Alexander stood up straighter, saying not a word but Daniel knew that this was when they needed to move quickly. If they let that organic matter touch them even with a sacrifice to take their place, it would kill them just as maliciously.

Daniel began the chant as he cut quickly and deeply, the blood flowing like dark wine in the ascribed patterns, falling to drip in ghastly counterpoint of Daniel's voice into the grate in the floor, where it would collect and mingle with the few drops of Daniels' and Alexander's blood. After the man was dead, they would empty the depository under the grate and Alexander would take the precious liquid to the laboratory to extract the vitae and make his potions with it; Daniel was never exactly sure what he used it for, and Alexander refused to fully explain.

"Paint the man, cut the lines. Cut the flesh, watch the blood spill," he chanted in an increasingly more intense pitch as more blood flowed. He repeated his stanza, voice raising to combat the screech that was howling through Brennenburg as the Shadow hunted for them and bloated the air, whipping up a wind. The prisoner's screams lessened as he came close to death.

Daniel looked up over his bloody victim at Alexander, whose face was splattered with arterial spray from the victim and his white hair stained with scarlet streaks. He nodded seriously and Daniel plunged the knife into the wounds of the victim, staining the bluish lines with blood that flowed over the body.

"Paint the man, cut the lines, cut the flesh, watch the blood spill," he shouted urgently, completing his cutting with a vicious slash that ended the man's life. "Let it come!"

The Shadow howled and the walls shook , the fleshy growths bubbling and threatening to overcome the room.

"Begone, Shadow! I offer you this sacrifice in place of my own. I have beaten you this time, foul Shadow!" Daniel shouted to the ceiling.

The Shadow shrieked in frustrated bloodlust and slowly receded, the fleshy growths vanishing as if they had never been.

"Well done, Daniel," Alexander said quietly, looking around at the new cracks in the walls.

Daniel let out a huge breath in relief, shaking slightly from the stress. With trembling hands he set down the knife and avoided looking at the brutally carved body. "Safe for now," he muttered to himself.

"There is but one more thing we must do with him," Alexander said, almost gently. Daniel nodded and unshackled the still-warm body. They manhandled it out into the corridor, where a hook and length of rope was already waiting.

Daniel fought down the upsurge of bile in his throat when the still-oozing blood from the corpse dripped on his face as they heaved on the pulley to haul to body up to the ceiling, tied by the ankles.

When the man was successfully tied up, still twitching a little as his nerves fizzled out, Daniel collapsed to the floor, hyperventilating and shaking. Alexander crouched down by him and put his hand on the young man's shoulder in silent understanding. Daniel managed not to vomit, though it made him queasy to swallow down the acid. He clenched his eyes shut tight, seeing himself covered in blood up past his elbows, knowing the apron was awash with gore and he could feel the steaming blood on his face. Hot tears escaped his eyes and burned away the blood to drip miserably onto the floor.

"What are we becoming, Alexander?" he wept. "What monsters are we to do these things?"

For a moment Alexander didn't reply. When he did, his voice was soft and gentle.

"I think that is the last ritual we need do, Daniel. We should have enough vitae amassed for me to make to final preparations for our journey."

"Are you sure?" Daniel asked, looking up with painful hope, brushing away his tears with bloody hands and smearing his face more thoroughly with gore. He was almost taken aback by the affectionate countenance he had surprised. Alexander looked away, composing himself.

"Yes, Daniel. Go clean yourself, prepare to leave. I shall make up the necessary potions. Occupy yourself how you wish, but do not disturb me until I come to _you_ – it is vital I undertake this last step alone. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Baron," Daniel replied obediently, getting to his feet with Alexander's help. "Are we to leave soon?"

Alexander thought for a few moments. "Go now, fill your time with happy pursuits. Come to me here at midnight, three days hence. We shall leave then."

Daniel didn't question how they would leave Brennenburg through the bowels of the castle. He trusted Alexander, after all. He smiled shakily.

Alexander's strange yellow eyes flicked back to Daniel's face and he returned the smile.

"Don't fret, Daniel. I have everything in hand, and soon we shall leave this place."

When Daniel was gone, the brief contentment in his soul that Daniel's presence brought him faded, and the dark knowledge of what he had to do overtook him. He washed his face quickly with water from the well, making sure the blood that had sprayed onto him was gone.

Going into a hidden room, one Daniel had never found and never would, Alexander walked with dark purpose to the bookshelf against the stone wall and selected a book. Pulling gently on the spine, he waited as the bookcase spun gently and deposited him outside of Brennenburg in the crisp night air. He saw distant lights, and headed towards them briskly.

For the truth was, they did _not_ have everything they needed for Daniel to survive the passage through the portal. Agrippa had been very specific.

He had all the other ingredients: distilled vitae, blood from Alexander's heart, water from the sewers, the plasma of the kaernk, offal meat of a pig, a broken cog melted down to ore and slag, the heart of a poisonous mushroom, a hair from Daniel's head innocently taken while he was sleeping, dust from a book of alchemy, and the dregs of the amnesia potion from when it was brewed.

There was but one thing he needed to complete and assemble it, and he knew Daniel would not be able to help him, not after his reaction to the ritual. He would be horrified and might even refuse to take the potion, knowing what was in it.

And he must be saved. Alexander could not bear to leave him alone, and so he would collect this blood without Daniel's knowledge or help. It was a necessary evil.

Creeping into the farmhouse, Alexander composed himself. _Curse you, Agrippa, for making me commit this sin. Only for Daniel do I do this,_ he thought to himself, and readied the gag and rope.

All that was left, he would collect tonight. A virgin sacrifice.

Daniel washed himself thoroughly, trying to rid himself of the guilt as well as the blood. Dressing himself in clean, soft clothes he went to the library and busied himself with a large book, pushing away the memories in favour of Mr Dickens.

After some time, however, he heard a shuffling sound of footsteps along the corridor. Putting the book aside with a racing heart and grabbing a candlestick as the best weapon he could find, he walked silently to the door and peered around it.

His breath caught in an inaudible gasp.

Shambling up the corridor was a broken husk of a man, supporting himself with difficulty and walking like a young child, unsure of the motion and seeming in pain with every step. He was hollowed and gaunt, corpse-like. For a terrible moment Daniel thought one of the victims had come to find him.

"Daniel?" A strangely melodious voice issued from the dead-eyed man, and he look around. Daniel calmed his racing heart; none of the prisoners had spoken like that, with that strong a German accent.

He stepped out from behind the door, keeping the candlestick between them as a pitiful sort of weapon. Just in case.

"Ahh, so _you_ are Herr Daniel," the man said, sagging against the banister.

"Who are you?" Daniel asked, voice tight with barely-controlled fear.

The man gave a horrible smile, exposing stumps of rotten teeth. "My name is Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa, Daniel. Pleased to meet you."


End file.
